


too far gone

by orphan_account



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 16:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't long until talk turns to the ring in question, and the plans for the wedding. November. So, so soon. “I'd love it if you guys could make it,” Hope says, and she looks Kelley in the eye the whole time. Talk about rubbing salt on a wound.</p>
            </blockquote>





	too far gone

It hasn't been long. Not long at all since Hope met Jerramy, and now from across the dining room Kelley can see the glinting diamond on her left hand, a clear sign of what's happened, and what's to come. It's been an even shorter period of time since something (they were never sure how to label it; they never talked about it) had ended between Hope and Kelley. Two months, maybe even less. Kelley hasn't counted. 

(Fifty four days exactly, Kelley has counted)

They were both so naïve, so inexperienced at the game. Hope didn't know how to contain her emotions, Kelley didn't know how to keep a meaningless fuck meaningless. She was childish to think so, but she wholeheartedly believed they could have become something more. 

Maybe, if they had tried.

Hope's talking to Carli and Lauren, and Kelley must have stared too long, because suddenly Lauren's waving her over, and she can't say no.

_Act like it meant nothing. Pretend you don't care. Prove to her that you got over it just as quickly as she did._

It isn't long until talk turns to the ring in question, and the plans for the wedding. November. So, so soon. 

“I'd love it if you guys could make it,” Hope says, and she looks Kelley in the eye the whole time.

Talk about rubbing salt on a wound.

There's nothing behind her gaze though, nothing like the sincerity that she used to wear only for Kelley, behind closed doors in the middle of the night. No emotions betrayed, except for joy, of course, because she's getting married.

She takes that as a sign that Hope doesn't care anymore, and accepts it, but that same pair of eyes haven't left her since she joined the conversation. 

…

The same pair of eyes follow her, all through the evening, right through dinner, their post-game meeting, a team movie night. Every time Kelley glances towards Hope she averts her eyes, like she's been caught doing something she shouldn't.

She has been caught doing something she shouldn't. Hope ended things. She's not allowed to want Kelley anymore. Not that she does. Just that it still hurts Kelley to be met by that gaze.

She can deal with that though. It's crushing her, but she can plaster a smile on her face and fake it until she's alone, and then she'll let herself break. 

Until then it's all polite conversation and a pain in her chest that she's learning to deal with.

She sticks with someone else all night, for company, for protection, for help in feeling that she's not completely alone tonight. First it's Alex and Tobin, then Syd, then Ashlyn (who's eventually joined by Ali) and when all else fails, she just drifts into the centre of the group, where Hope can't get near her.

Especially since Hope's been wearing the same look for most of the night, one that means she wants something. Kelley would have to be stupid to think the something is anything but a conversation with her.

They haven't spoken for fifty four days, besides mandatory communication. Kelley wants to put it off for one more night.

She's doing so well, and then she rounds the corner from the elevator and walks straight into Hope.

…

“Hey, Kell.”

“Hey.” Her reply is short and clipped, and Kelley crosses her arms over her chest and looks away, in the hope that Hope cares enough to not have this conversation.

“You alright?”

“Fine.”

Hope reaches for Kelley's wrist and, by some miracle, Kelley doesn't flinch away. “Kelley, please.” Kelley just looks at her, one arm still crossed over her body, the other held in place by Hope, “Talk to me.” Silence. “I miss you.”

That gets a reaction, but it's the opposite of the one Hope was looking for. Kelley recoils back, any affections she'd been showing by not reacting to Hope's touch a minute ago is replaced by anger, as she folds into herself again.

(Kelley's not really angry at Hope, just sad, with a heaviness in her heart that she can't seem to lift. Her brain tells her that lashing out is the rational thing to do.)

“No, Hope. You don't get to say that. You're getting married.” Her voice strains near the end, but doesn't break, so maybe Hope doesn't know how much she's hurting.

…

Of course she knows. They'd been 'together' for eleven months. If anybody knows the things Kelley tries to hide, it's Hope. 

Still, she doesn't know what to say. There's a million things she could say.

_I love you._

_I miss you._

_I wish we didn't end the way we did._

They're all true, of course, but saying them makes them real, makes them into something Kelley could grasp, and twist, and manipulate into a way to get Hope back. 

(Hope knows the thought would never even cross Kelley's mind, the girl is too genuine, too morally upright to try that.)

So the chance to speak is gone, or it was never there to begin with. There was nothing appropriate to say that wouldn't damage them further. Hope gives up on finding words and does the next most damaging thing. She does what she always does (did, they're a past tense now) when she can't find her words with Kelley. She kisses her.

She kisses her like she's not getting married, and like they haven't been apart for such a short time (although it feels like forever).

Kelley kisses her back for a second, and then pulls away, and really it's the reaction Hope expected.

She planned for this eventuality—in the three seconds that she actually took to think it through—and grabs Kelley's hand, praying that she won't let go. Her prayers are answered.

It's selfish of her, she knows it's selfish, and she knows she shouldn't do it, but she brings Kelley to her room (a single for this camp, thank God) and kisses her again up against the inside of the door. 

“Hope, stop, what are you doing?”

“Please, Kelley.” She sounds so desperate, and she doesn't even know why she needs this. 

(Yes she does. She needs it because they need closure as lovers to start over as friends.)

“You're engaged.”

“Just once more. One more night.” So selfish.

“Okay.” Kelley kisses her completely and their fate is sealed. 

…

The night blurs for Kelley from there on in, except for the steady pulse in her ears, and a hand that doesn't leave her hip and—most of all—the way her name falls from Hope's lips as she comes.

She wants to leave when it's over, because she feels used and dirty and full of regret, but the light is fading from the room and she remembers Hope's echo from before. _One more night._ There was something to Hope's voice that told Kelley she meant it indefinitely. This is her last chance, and leaving would only hasten the heartbreak she's sure to feel when she's alone again.

So she lets Hope hold her close and breathe into her hair, and tries not to think about what's going to come with morning. 

The ring on Hope's left hand that Kelley can feel all too well against her skin is a reminder of it. It gets to be too much, now that they're still and silent and she can't be distracted, but Hope doesn't protest as Kelley slips the ring off her finger, placing it on the nightstand.

If Kelley had left, they would have been over. She's still there, which means friendship is still on the cards. Maybe, if they try hard enough. Maybe if they both want it. 

It's the possibility that helps Kelley make peace with the darkness.

She didn't expect camp to go like this. She didn't expect anything close to this level of intimacy from a woman who left her fifty four days ago—technically fifty five, the clock's passed midnight—and got engaged to a man she'd known for a month. 

She didn't expect to be content with her situation.

(Of course the grief's still weighing heavy on her chest, and she knows she's been used, she's not stupid, but Kelley can get over it, or at least pretend she's over it if it means she'll get to keep this final night with Hope.)

It's dark in the room, and Kelley's two thirds of her way to sleep, and anything that is said now won't mean anything once morning comes, so Hope takes a shaky breath and lets it out. “I still think of you sometimes. When Jerramy's out, sometimes I get lonely. Sometimes when he's with me I wish it was you.” She's never sounded so vulnerable, never been so honest. Kelley knows it's because she thinks she's asleep.

She wants to keep this night, so she won't break the moment, and she won't tell Hope she heard it in the morning. 

She won't tell Hope she heard it ever. That's a secret for the night to keep.

 


End file.
